


Weasley’s Wedding

by Wonderfulworld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Smut, Wedding Planning, they’re all idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderfulworld/pseuds/Wonderfulworld
Summary: It was their best friends’ wedding, highly publicised and considered to be the biggest social event of the year. Definitely not the time for underlying feelings to arise, right?OrHermione collects Quidditch players like Pokemon and Draco cries over cake.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Cormac McLaggen, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 33
Kudos: 88





	1. Introduction

The biggest news of the new year was that Draco Malfoy, ex-death eater, ex-ferret and ex-Chudley Cannons fan, was to be a groomsman at Ron Weasley’s wedding. The second biggest news story was that Hermione Granger, Golden Girl, Mudblood and collector of famous and handsome quidditch players, was to be Pansy Parkinson’s Maid Of Honour. The third biggest news story was that this was all for the same event. 

The Weasley-Parkinson engagement was surprising for most and distressing for many. Whilst Harry Potter had been officially named Best Man, his two year old son and heavily pregnant wife meant his attentions would not be dedicated enough to wedding preparations. This caused great debate as Ron tried to fight for any of his many brothers as a groomsman instead and Pansy announced, publicly and loudly, that one redhead would be enough at the altar. 

Draco Malfoy was the agreed upon party but only  _ after  _ Pansy had agreed to apologise for her somewhat malicious comments about gingers and Ron had received the kind of sexual favour that made his head spin. Even then it was touch and go. Draco, excited about the wedding and extremely drunk, had made the mistake of mentioning a particular activity that Pansy had been known for in Hogwarts and had become an expert in during their brief dating stint. This had earned him the right to dodge two punches, from both the bride and groom to be, and an opportunity to cry on Hermione Granger’s shoulder. 

Hermione, on the other hand, had been the obvious choice. She was well-organised, ambitious and participated in the kind of “casual dating” that left her free between the hours of 5 and 12 each night and almost bored on the weekends. She was best friends with the groom and one of the only women thick-skinned enough to stay friends with the bride for more than 2 months. 

Draco was more than willing to clear his already free schedule as an unemployed bachelor if it meant he could help out Pansy and spend his time annoying the bushy haired Gryffindor. Over the years they had become almost-friends. The word friendship didn’t quite cover their strange relationship that seemed to consist of angry arguments with obnoxiously elitist cultural references until they were both conveniently drunk at the same time and flirted just as obnoxiously. 

The Wedding was scheduled for the end of the summer and, given Pansy’s travelling hours and Ron’s own thriving business, almost all of the wedding preparations were left to them. There were only a few specifics that Pansy pulled from an almost twenty year old scrapbook, discreetly attempting to cover the small photo of an 11 year old Draco and the tiny pink love hearts floating around it. 

“No Lillies, Daffodils, Roses or Peonies. If you can find it in a funeral home it’s not going in my bouquet.” Pansy said firmly, slamming the scrapbook closed and handing directly to Hermione for safe keeping. “Don’t let Draco loose in that.” Pansy whispered, blushing, as Hermione attempted to shove the ribbon-covered book into her magically enlarged bag. 

Draco remained oblivious, head resting on the restaurant table as he groaned a little. Pansy patted him on the shoulder as she left, tipping the waiter heavily and laughing as Ron tripped over himself to run after her. 

“They’re gone now.” Hermione said, smiling around her cup as she finished her drink. Draco turned his head, still lent over the table and opened one eye to look at her. 

“I don’t believe you.” Hermione rolled her eyes and then gestured to the empty table. Draco sighed as he sat up. 

“I’ll see you next week then?” Hermione was standing quickly and pulling her bag onto her shoulder. Draco looked up at her as if offended. 

“Where are you going?” Draco sounded rather confused and Hermione didn’t look him in the eyes as she replied. 

“I’ve got a date.” 


	2. Chapter 1

Cormac McLaggen was, like everyone, a flawed person. Whilst he was undoubtedly attractive, his competitive personality made conversation with him uncomfortable and his attempts to explain quidditch to Hermione each time they met was more than a little annoying. Despite that, she often found herself sitting across from him in some small cafe or pub, listening to him once again explain the history of the snitch in avid detail. Had it been any other subject Hermione would’ve sat forward in her chair and listened eagerly but she had discovered early on that whilst quidditch players might do it for her, the game itself did not. 

Cormac did have a few redeeming qualities; he refused to fuck witches unless he’d taken them for a meal first, his domineering personality transferred nicely into the bedroom and he had perfected a certain quidditch themed dirty talk that, rather surprisingly, put Hermione in the perfect mood. In all honesty he had improved since Hogwarts in a few departments, especially since Hermione had limited him to 5 outright boasts a night. His manners were improving, he talked a little less and he’d finally learnt to appreciate the art of cunnilingus. To put it better, Hermione Granger had taken the time to teach him to appreciate “the finer things in life” and had even suggested a few reading materials. 

The pattern was simple. Cormac sent her an owl asking her to dinner on the Friday, she replied within two hours, they both pretended to be interested in each other’s personalities at dinner on Saturday and then he spent the rest of the evening and a significant part of the night railing her until her eyes crossed and she saw God. Then she woke up on Sunday morning, wrote a note about why it wouldn’t work out and snuck out his back door. This pattern repeated itself around once a month and, although slightly ashamed, Hermione was not willing to give it up as her only current source of regular orgasms. 

This week was exactly like all the others, Hermione was chugging down wine faster than the waitress could pour it as Cormac talked in great detail about the inventor of the Bludger. He was still discussing it as she asked for the bill and pushed it towards him. He paused to sign a check and then diverted into his second favourite topic, himself. 

“I tell you Hermione, they’ll promote me any day now.” He paused for a minute to push her against the wall outside the restaurant, grip her hips tightly and kiss her heavily, sliding his tongue against hers in a practiced fashion. He pulled back again, grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the closest apparation point. The moment they landed in his living room she practically jumped on him, wrapping an arm around his neck and her legs around his waist. He groaned into her mouth and was quick to start peppering kisses along her shoulders as she pushed his jacket from his shoulders and started unbuttoning his shirt. He dropped her to the floor once he’d walked them to his bedroom and spun her around quickly to start undoing the buttons on her dress. 

“Is this a new dress?” It was an innocent question but Hermione scowled a little at the wall in front of her. He asked this question every time she wore it. 

“No.” 

“Next time, wear the off shoulder red one with the-“ 

“Black heels. I know.” He chuckled a little as he finished unbuttoning her and spun her back around to face him. She pulled her arms from the dress and he pushed it the rest of the way down until it pooled at her feet. 

“You’ll do it then?” He said, voice a little hopeful, and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you going to read that book on House Elf history?” He scoffed. 

“Nope.” 

“Then there’s your answer.” She smirked as he sighed and then, with mock reluctance, pushed her back onto the bed behind her. She pushed herself up on her elbows and reached an arm back to unhook her bra, throwing it in his general direction. He looked unnecessarily pleased with himself when he caught it mid-air, halfway through untucking his shirt and pulling it off himself. Hermione rolled her eyes and he copied her before chuckling to himself and dragging her by her ankles to the edge of the bed.

Looking up at his well over six foot height, golden hair, hard abs and smug grin, Hermione remembered why the monthly quidditch trivia was worth it. If that hadn’t been enough, the way he immediately dropped to his knees, pulling off both her shoes and then, swiftly after, her knickers before pressing one long, calloused finger into her heat would’ve reminded her just why she was once again sprawled across his bed. He placed open mouthed kisses up the inside of her left leg until he met his hand at the apex of her thighs and set to work.

For a moment Hermione remembered a time not so long ago when she had attempted to bed Neville Longbottom and he had almost cried at the very mention of using his tongue anywhere other than her mouth. She made a mental note to agree to suck McLaggen off in his quidditch outfit the next time he asked. She was rather abruptly brought back to the present as Cormac suddenly sucked and her hands flew to his hair, tugging a little. 

“Every time.” Cormac murmured against her and she felt him huff out a small laugh against her. 

“Shut up.” Her tone was as frustrated as she could get it whilst still trying to sound playful and she closed her eyes as he pulled his finger out slowly and replaced it with his tongue, pulling her closer to him by her thighs. He pulled her left leg over his shoulder and she moaned, feeling a little blissed out as he slid his tongue in and out in the way that he knew got her off fastest. He was winding her up quickly tonight and she could already feel her orgasm rising. He pressed a large hand to her stomach as she shifted a little. 

“Hermione?” Cormac sounded strangely nervous and had pulled his mouth from her. 

“What, Cormac?” Hermione opened her eyes, previously screwed up in pleasure, and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that he hadn’t chosen today of all days to start waxing poetic. Then she heard Ron’s voice and sat up quickly. The fear of having an ex-boyfriend in the room caused her to almost knee a frozen Cormac in the face. 

“Pansy’s freaking out, Hermione. You’ve gotta come over. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn't important.” Hermione identified the source of the voice, Ron’s patronus and once it disappeared she started to shuffle off the bed. 

“I should go.” Cormac pouted at her slightly. 

“Fucking Weasley.” 

“I’ll see you next week?” 

“I don’t know, I might be having dinner with the minister that night.” For a moment Hermione laughed at his words and then, realising he was serious, she covered it with a cough. She stood up on slightly shaky legs and Cormac grabbed her waist to steady her, looking a little smug as he kissed her thigh and stood up straight only to fall back onto the bed. By the time Hermione had pulled her dress on and struggled to do the buttons herself, Cormac had already pulled his cock from his trousers. He absentmindedly stroked up and down it as he watched her leave with a slightly wistful expression. 

~ 

Hermione was knocking on the door of Ron’s flat, red in the face from the speed with which she had run up the stairs. When the door didn’t open the first time she knocked again a little louder and looked down at her shoes, noticing that she’d forgotten to do up the buckle on the left foot. The door opened and an exhausted looking Draco peered down at her. He looked frustrated for a moment and then his eyebrows raised as he looked her up and down. 

“Why do you look nice?” He sounded almost suspicious as he said it and Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing past him into the flat. 

“I had that date. Remember?” Draco nodded slowly, as if remembering suddenly. Hermione bent to pull her shoes off and Draco laughed a little. 

“Date was successful then?” Draco asked innocently and Hermione straightened and turned herself around to glare at him. 

“What?” Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed her shoulder to turn her around. 

“You’ve clearly got dressed in a rush, these buttons are done up all wrong.” Draco tutted with disappointment and set out to fix them, hands moving quickly to pop them back into place. Hermione tapped her foot a little as he did it. 

“Is Hermione here yet?!” Pansy’s screech made its way from the nearby bedroom. Ron poked his head out of the bedroom and laughed loudly before disappearing again. 

“Draco’s undressing her on our doorstep.” Ron’s voice sounded amused and Hermione could almost imagine his smug smile. 

“Merlin! Really?!” Pansy sounded almost excited by the idea and both Hermione and Draco chuckled as she poked her head around the corner, face red and eyes still wet with tears despite her sudden wide smile. 

“We interrupted Granger’s date.” Draco said it with a smirk at Pansy over Hermione’s shoulder, popping the last button into place. “Why you’re going out with men who won’t even button you up afterwards I have no idea.” He spoke the second part a little lower into her ear and she turned her head to fix him with a glare. As he spoke Pansy let out a sob and ran out from the bedroom, pulling Hermione into a hug. 

“You- you left a date to come help me?” Pansy gulped down a sob and wiped a tear from her eye with her hand. 

“I think it’s safe to say the date portion of the evening was very much  _ over.”  _ Draco said mischievously as he walked around the women to sit on the sofa. Ron laughed out loud at that and then turned to Hermione with a knowing look. 

“McLaggen, again? Really?” Ron fixed her with a disappointed gaze that reminded her eerily of his mother. “Have you told him about the Confundus incident yet?” Hermione scowled and Pansy and Draco exchanged confused glances. 

“No. And if I hear you mention it again I’ll bring McLaggen as my wedding date.” Ron looked deeply offended by the idea. “Might I remind you it was for your benefit?” Ron and Hermione glared at each other for a moment before Draco clapped his hands together. 

“Pansy, wasn’t there something incredibly important that you’d dragged us here for?” Draco drawled and Pansy sprung into action. Hermione made her way to sit by Draco on the sofa as Ron watched with confusion as Pansy ran back into their bedroom. She emerged again with her wand and then spun it quickly, muttering a little. A huge white folder zoomed from their bookshelves and onto the coffee table in front of Draco and Hermione. They looked at each other, braced themselves and then both turned back to Pansy who was inhaling a slightly shaky breath. 

“So-“ Pansy’s voice cracked. “So, I left Ron in charge of the mail and only found out an hour ago that the wedding dress needs to be ordered by tomorrow morning if it’s going to be finished in time.” Draco sighed and lent forward to put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with mock sobs as Pansy spoke. “I’m going to go wipe my mascara off my face, you two can start looking through the dress options.” The large folder slammed open. “Ron why don’t you come with me so I can shout at you some more.” 

“Sounds great, dear.” Ron said slowly as he followed her into the bathroom and shut the door behind them. Hermione patted a still shaking Draco on the shoulder with mock pity and then leaned forward to start inspecting their options. 

“FORGOT TO CHECK FOR OWLS?! HOW DO YOU FORGET TO CHECK FOR OWLS?!” Pansy’s shouts were still extremely audible through the bathroom door and they both jumped in their seats, looking up at the door at the same time. Hermione looked back at the folder almost immediately, flicking through the pages intently. “OF ALL THE IDIOTIC, RIDICULOUS THINGS YOU HAVE EVER DONE! THIS ONE TOPS IT!” 

Ron’s tone of voice was audible; quiet, meek and extremely apologetic but his words were lost through the door. Draco shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small flask, peering at the page of frilly white dresses and grimacing as he screwed off the lid. He took a swig from it and then silently handed it to Hermione as they both shuddered at the sight of a large dress with puffed sleeves. She took a swig and then another before handing it back to him. 

“I DON’T CARE THAT YOUR SORRY!” Pansy’s voice seemed to be almost amplified now. “UNLESS SORRY IS A SPELL THAT SUMMONS THE PERFECT WEDDING DRESS THEN I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” 

Hermione giggled at that, turning the page to look at another hideous page of dresses. Draco took another swig from the flask before screwing the lid on and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“Only 8 months left!” Draco tried to sound jovial and casual as he said it but Hermione groaned and fell back on the sofa, fake crying for a moment before covering her face with her hands. Draco copied her and leaned back too. She pulled her hands down to squint at him. 

“Only 8 months left!” Her attempt at excitement was better than his but he still turned his face towards her to laugh. They both chuckled for a few seconds before the bathroom door opened with a slam and they lent forward to appear engrossed in the folder and avoid the eye contact of a fuming Pansy Parkinson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it so far. Xx


	3. Chapter 2

It was Harry who came to the rescue in the end. He had only noticed Ron’s letter the next morning and after hearing no updates on the situation he made his way over to their flat. His knocks weren’t answered and after three minutes of continuous knocking, kicking and shouting at the door Harry remembered the emergency key he kept in his wallet. Although not the wand in his other pocket with which he could’ve easily fixed his problem. 

He pushed the door open and stepped into the weirdest scene he had ever laid eyes on. As Deputy Head Auror, Harry was familiar with crime scenes and that was the only phrase he could use to describe the mess in front of him. 

Ron Weasley was lying face down across the coffee table, fully dressed in a tuxedo, bow tie and hair perfectly in place. He was snoring a little but not loudly and his deep exhales caused the hundreds of papers all over the living room floor to flutter with each breath. Hermione was lying on the floor between the table and the sofa. Her dress seemed to have been charmed thirteen different colours in different patches along the material and her makeup was overdone although surprisingly still in place. She was sleeping on her side peacefully and facing the sofa. Draco Malfoy was lying on his back on the couch with his head lolling off the edge. His hand had fallen from the couch as well and landed suspiciously close to Hermione’s breast. His own outfit consisted of a makeshift kilt from a table cloth and traditional Wizarding robes. There were no less than five perfectly formed lipstick stains on his face alone and his arms appeared to have been used for makeup testing. 

“Pansy?” Harry’s voice was quiet, so as not to disturb those sleeping in the living room and he padded softly toward the open bedroom door. 

“Not the Green ones!” Pansy said, still half asleep as she sat up in bed suddenly. She was dressed in Chudley Cannon pyjamas but they were covered in toilet paper, clearly stuck to her in the appearance of a wedding dress. 

“Pansy!” Harry whispered to her from the doorway as she looked around the room quickly. She stumbled out of the bed and pushed past him, tripping over a pile of handmade flower bouquets crafted from tissue paper. She stood up straight suddenly and examined the room with her brow furrowed in confusion. She tilted her head as she studied Draco and then looked over at Ron. Then she turned to Harry suddenly. 

“Have we ever made love, Potter?” Harry’s eyes bulged from his head and he pushed his glasses further back on his nose before coughing into his hand. 

“There was one incident five years ago when Ginny and I were on a break…” Pansy was already bored by him and had moved over to glare down at Ron. “Yeah, it’s not important.” 

“RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!” Ron snorted loudly and jolted at Pansy’s shout. He looked around with quick, nervous movements and almost fell off the coffee table as he turned to his fiancée. Her shouts had also woken Draco who sat up quickly. 

“Ow!” Hermione sat up on the floor beside him and grabbed at her chest. “Why on earth would you slap me in the boob?” Ron sniggered a little at that but stopped immediately as Pansy glared at him, pausing her attempts to rip the toilet paper from herself. Draco was bent over, rubbing his eyes with one hand and sighing deeply when he replied.

“I want everyone to acknowledge that if it were any other morning my response to that question would’ve been the perfect combination of hilarious and sensual.” Draco turned to Hemrione with an eager grin which dropped when she shook her head and placed it in her hands. Draco looked up suddenly and squinted at Harry. “Why are you here, Potter?” 

“I’m the best man.” Harry said, as if it were obvious and he started towards the kitchen, pulling down four mugs from the cupboard. 

“We could’ve done with your help about seven hours ago, Harry.” Ron said as he stood up, wobbled a little on his feet and made his way over to pull Pansy against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he rubbed a hand against her back. “It’s been an absolute nightmare.” 

Harry filled the teapot and tapped it with his wand before speaking. “Do you think that has something to do with your attempts to plan an entire wedding in one night?” Harry looked at them, a little smug and they all sneered at him. 

“As always, you remain an idiot Potter.” Malfoy spat. Pansy nodded a little against Ron’s chest and Ron looked at Harry, slightly apologetic. 

“The thing is, Harry, there’s a lot of work that goes into a wedding.” Ron started. 

“I don’t appreciate you coming in here and mocking us. Especially not after the night we’ve had.” Hermione continued. 

“You don’t understand the intricate workings of such a large event.” Draco drawled and Hermione nodded quickly, squishing her nose down with one finger and pointing at him with the other. Draco looked deeply confused and attempted to copy her as she laughed. He hiccuped a little and they both giggled at each other until they turned to see the other three watching with unimpressed faces. Harry tapped his foot impatiently as he and Ron exchanged a worried look. Draco sat up straight as Pansy studied him with a disapproving glare. 

“Hermione and Draco took it upon themselves to taste test wines for the wedding.” Ron said to Harry, as if in clarification. Harry nodded and then squinted at the two of them again before walking over to the now boiling teapot. He dropped a tea bag in and then turned back to watch Hermione attempting to rub the lipstick off Draco’s face. Her face screwed up in concentration as she licked her thumb and brought it up to his face as he slowly tried to move away from her. 

“May I ask why?” Harry looked between the four of them and Pansy’s face screwed up as her eyes began filling up with tears. Draco stopped trying to ward Hermione off, instead placing his hands over his ears as a precaution. Hermione paused her attack on Draco’s patchy pink face to watch with trepidation as Pansy’s lower lip wobbled a little. Ron’s eyes grew impossibly large as he struggled between hiding his face in his hands and crying himself. 

“We had until this morning to order the wedding dress.” Hermione finally spoke up, just before the breaking point and Draco and Ron let out a deep sigh of relief as Pansy calmed a little, breathing in and out shakily. “And we realised that everything else to do with the wedding would have to tie into the theme of the dress and- and well that explains…” She trailed off as she gestured vaguely to the mess of the apartment. 

“I’m assuming you  _ didn’t  _ order a dress in time.” Harry said as Draco lent over the arm of the sofa to retrieve a large board from the floor. The other three exchanged looks as Draco propped the board up on the sofa beside him and inspected it silently for a second. 

“I think maybe it’s better that we didn’t. From the looks of things your wedding was going to be Unicorn themed.” Draco finally said and they all looked at him. 

“That explains the kilt then.” Ron said, gesturing to Draco’s pale bare legs. Draco looked down as if surprised and gently touched the fabric. 

“Does it though?” Hermione said, watching with childish wonder. 

“No.” Harry said firmly. “It explains nothing.” Draco and Ron exchanged a companionable look of “get-a-load-of-this-guy” but said nothing. “You’re all going to drink some tea and then we’re going to take our time picking a dress.” Draco, Hermione and Ron all nodded but Pansy was less than pleased. 

“Potter. You’re forgetting that it won’t be finished in time, so what’s the point?” The other three paused on their way to the kitchen to look between her and Harry. Harry sighed and then raised his eyebrows. 

“Did  _ you _ visit them originally or did Ron?” Hermione’s eyes widened a little in realisation whilst behind her Draco’s eyebrows furrowed along with Ron’s.

“I did. Ron was busy that Saturday so I went on my own.” Pansy looked a little confused but didn’t let her confidence falter. “Why?”

“Ginny and I used the same people.” Harry gestured to the large white binder. “They were really big fans of The Boy Who Lived and all that nonsense so….” Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Ron swallowed a little thickly as Pasy turned red again. 

“Because I’m pureblood. Are you kidding me?” Pansy looked around them with wild eyes and they all avoided her gaze. “Ginny’s pureblood!” Harry nodded with a grimace. 

“It’s fine, we’ll send Ron and Hermione with your dress decision. They’re sure to get it done quickly for two thirds of the Golden Trio.” Harry said matter-of-factly. Draco scowled as Hermione and Ron shared an awkward look. Ron sighed once he saw Pansy’s crestfallen expression. 

“I know it’s not ideal but it’s- this is just how it is at the moment. Hermione will make sure we get the exact one you want. Won’t you?” Ron said and the couple turned to look at Hermione, who was inspecting Draco’s lipstick covered face with trepidation. 

“Oh, fuck that noise!” Hermione exclaimed and Draco jumped at her sudden change in mood. “You’ll come with me and your bridesmaids and we’ll do it the way it’s meant to be done. I’m not having you miss out on this because of nonsense prejudices.” Pansy let out a small sob and almost tripped over the coffee table in her attempts to hug Hermione. Draco backed away from the entwined witches as Ron also made his way over to Harry. Harry offered them both cups of tea as the three wizards kept their eyes on the now slightly-swaying bundle of witches. 

“Did you ever think this was possible?” Harry said, watching in awe as Pansy let out a small sob into Hermione’s shoulder. Draco nodded slowly and swallowed heavily. 

“I had a fantasy in Fifth Year that started in a surprisingly similar manner.” Draco said and Ron looked at him with rage for a moment before grimacing. 

“Actually, so did I.” Ron said and Harry looked between the two wizards with a mixture of disgust and horror. 

~

Contestants for The Bride’s Wedding Party included a perfect mix of colleagues, eager to please socialites, friends and women who had spent at least a decade befriending Pansy in attempts to reach the Malfoy treasure trove (both the physical Gringotts bank and the “crown jewels” of the much discussed heir). Pansy Parkinson had surrounded herself with all manner of women after Hogwarts, this was due to a sudden mournfulness over her lack of close, teen female friendships and a certain six weeks working at a lesbian bar in America that she had yet to mention to her fiancee. The results of this melting pot of witches was an incredibly long list of people Pansy had, at one point, referred to as her best friend. 

The task of reducing this list was the first attempted by Draco and Hermione, after their own appointments. The evening started with Hermione, in a rather slytherin-like manner, manipulating her close friendship with the bartender to provide Draco with enough butterbeers that he was drunk enough to freely admit which of the witches on the list he had slept with, how the relationship had ended and, if applicable, how many feet of distance should be needed between him and any such witches for the safety of the event. Whilst drunk enough to comply, Malfoy kept enough wits about him to note the unnecessary ferocity some of the names on the list were receiving as they were scribbled out. The evening ended with a drunken Malfoy, on the edge of tears, explaining how it was possible to only take 3/4 of someone’s virginity. The most concerning part of that particular conversation was not how quickly it descended into a passionate debate about the orgasm gap but the fact that it had happened before. 

A week after what was now referred to as The Dress Debacle, Hermione stepped into the lift at work, once again checking the list of last minute RSVPs against the list of bridesmaids for the fittings. Just as the doors were about to close Draco slipped through the doors and stood beside her quietly. She didn’t acknowledge him, instead flipping through the stack of paper in her arms to find the confirmation letter of both Greengrass sisters. As she flipped back to her list and checked both names off, Draco stepped closer to her, all the while struggling to get a clear view of the list. 

“Would you count a betrothal through the ages 3 through 17 as a relationship?” Draco asked, rather obnoxiously and causing Hermione to almost drop her armfuls of scrolls and papers. She looked surprised at his sudden appearance, unaware of his presence in the lift. 

“Jesus Christ, Malfoy!” Hermione pulled the stack of papers safely against her chest and glared at him. “Why do you ask?” 

He looked at her and grimaced. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No.” He nodded in response. She looked between the Greengrass RSVP and his apologetic eyes. “Malfoy…. No.” He nodded again almost painfully, perhaps finally realising the full extent of his actions. She looked away from him suddenly, as if personally betrayed and he turned back to face the doors. “Why would you wait so long to tell me?!”

“You won’t let me see the bloody list. How was I supposed to know?”

“Of course I’m not showing you the list. You’d treat it like a personalised “to do” list. How was I supposed to know that you were fucking engag-”

“Betrothed. We were betrothed. And I resent that! As Best Man-”

“You’re not Best Man.” 

“As Better than the Best Man,” Hermione snorted as he raised his chin a little higher. “I’d consider it just another part of my wedding duties to make sure that all members of the wedding party felt… _ at home _ .” 

“Remind me not to come over your house.” Hermione smirked as Draco rolled his eyes, looking back at the door again. 

“I’ve never fucked either of the Greengrass sisters if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Of course it’s not. I have no interest in your-” She paused to cough awkwardly into her hand. “ _ dating _ life. I simply want this wedding to go along as smoothly as possible and while it may surprise you I’d prefer it if you weren’t stabbed with a dessert fork.” 

“Granger, I think that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He grinned down at her and she raised an eyebrow.

“All the catering companies we’ve looked at demand cutlery be returned as it was before it left their possession. It doesn’t matter how many Aurors you befriend if you break a business contract Malfoy. You can’t just pay your way out of that one.” 

“I disagree-”

The doors opened, finally arriving at Hermione’s floor, and she stepped past him through them, turning to wave, once through. Draco waved eagerly back. 

“I’ll see you at 6 tomorrow, Granger!” He shouted through the closing doors and Hermione’s face turned murderous as she ran to the already shut doors. She smacked them for a second before stepping back and stomping her foot. 

“Bloody, Blonde Bastard.” Her satisfaction with her alliteration didn’t last long as someone cleared their throat behind her. “McLaggen! I mean- Uh- Cormac!” 

He was standing with a colleague, both waiting for the lift which she had somewhat rudely blocked. The other man scowled a little as Cormac plastered a grin on his face. 

“I didn’t know Malfoy worked at the ministry.” He started, ignoring the glare of his companion and retrieving Hermione’s papers from her arms. 

“So you saw him too. Thank God.” Hermione chuckled. “I was beginning to think I’d imagined him just popping out of nowhere.” Cormac started walking ahead of her, in the direction of her office, and she jogged a little to catch up with his long paces. 

“I didn’t realise you two were close.” He looked over his shoulder at her with a dazzling grin which she returned. She remembered now why it was good their departments had very little cross over, she was already subconsciously mapping out the closest broom cupboards between the lifts and her desk. The image of her desk did not help her concentration levels. Cormac stopped walking as he noticed the concerned look on her face and she almost ran into him. 

“Oh. Ummm. We’re helping Ron and Pansy with their- with their wedding. We don’t really know each other that well.” She stumbled and blushed a little, inwardly cursing as she did so.

She didn’t owe Cormac any explanation, let alone excuses and lies about what she had to admit was more than a small acquaintance. On the other hand it would be nice to complain to McLaggen about something whilst he listened instead of being talked  _ at.  _

“If I’m honest with you he’s already being a fucking prick about it.” Cormac grabbed her hand and started walking again, faster now. “I asked him for his honesty about one thing for the bridesmaids and he couldn’t even-“ 

She stopped talking as Cormac opened the door to any empty storage cupboard, looked around the empty corridor and pulled her in. He placed her pile of papers on the shelf. 

“Not gonna take me to dinner first?” She said, sounding disappointed even as she turned and locked the door with her wand. Cormac was already unbuckling his belt as she turned back around. 

“You had that angry look in your eye, last time you gave me that look you came thrice in as many minutes.” He smirked, looking rather pleased with himself and pushing her hair back from her face. 

“Last time it was because you forgot about my New Year resolution and ordered me steak and chips without even asking.” She bent to pull her knickers down her legs, struggling a little as they got caught on her heels. 

“Three times!” Cormac was pulling an over dramatised face of surprise and she couldn’t help but laugh. She didn't get much chance to before he was delicately kissing her on the forehead, then nose and then slanting his lips across her own and kissing her forcefully. She reciprocated quickly pushing her hands into his hair and practically wrapping herself around him. Rather suddenly he turned her to face the shelf and stepped behind her pulling her skirt up over her backside as she heard him drag down his fly with the other. He slipped his hand between her legs, pulling them apart and she gripped her hands on the shelf in front of her. 

“Tell me exactly what the bastard did.” She could practically hear the smirk in his voice but couldn’t help herself from playing along. She glared at the ingredients list on the back of a bleach bottle as she started. 

“I was just trying to make their wedding perfect and he knew that it was important to me and he didn’t even warn me until toda- mmmmm” Cormac pressed into her from behind and she widened her stance even further, her words turning to a groan. He grabbed at her curls and she panted at the arch it caused in her back. He pulled out again quickly and she moaned a little, totally ignorant to his chuckle from behind. 

“Keep talking.” Cormac’s voice was low as he held himself against her entrance but didn’t shift his hips far enough forward to give her what she wanted. 

“Fuck. Cormac, please.” He chuckled again as she arched herself against him further. “He- I mean who fucking gets betrothed anymore. The upper class snooty motherfuck- ahhhh.” He pushed into her again, cutting her off just as she got her thoughts in order. He paused inside of her and she breathed in and out deeply, finally turning her face to look at him. As she did so his hips snapped forward and he gave her the purest grin possible before snaking an arm around her waist and pressing a finger against her clit. 

“Fuck.” 

Hermione couldn’t help but agree. 


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am officially the queen of starting three new fanfictions before finishing the chapter of the one I've already posted. Well done me. Xx

The Greengrass sisters had been more than a little surprised to receive a letter from Gryffindor’s Golden Girl. Neither had been close with her, especially as Astoria had been too young for much interaction. That being said, some of Daphne’s fondest memories were watching a particularly vicious fight between Draco and Hermione in the school hallways and she’d spent a good part of one afternoon begging Crabbe for access to the memory of Granger punching Malfoy across the face. This had not gone unnoticed by the blonde who had kept a safe distance in fear that she’d either become another clinger like Pansy or would in some way report his behaviour back to her parents and ruin his betrothal. 

Despite all this they accepted the invitation and arrived at the dress fitting at 5:45, hoping not to be caught late by Granger or ruin any already tenuous relationship with Pansy. They were the first there and spent five minutes huddled in their cloaks outside before an exhausted looking Ginny rounded the corner and stood beside them in awkward silence. 

“So…” Ginny, ever the Gryffindor, was the first to attempt conversation. “I heard that you’re working with Pansy, Daphne?” It would have been the perfect start had she not directed it at the wrong sister. Luckily she was saved by the sudden apparation of Pansy, holding the confirmation card for the session and waving it at the woman in the window who swiftly welcomed them inside. 

The awkward silence returned as the four witches sat in the waiting area, surrounded by beautiful dresses. Ginny crossed her jean-clad legs, mirroring the perfectly practiced posture of her companions and they all sent friendly smiles at her. The Weasley temper almost started boiling before the shop assistant brought around glasses and champagne and they all distracted themselves with the bubbles. Pansy tapped her foot quickly and almost jumped out of her seat when someone apparated right outside the window. 

“Is that Draco?” Astoria spoke up, recognising the blonde hair and dark robes luring outside the door. Ginny stood again to peek through the window. 

“Yep. He looks a little- Oh and Hermione’s appeared as well.” Both Greengrass sisters sat up a little straighter. Ginny stepped back from the window and sat in her seat. “Give them a minute.” 

Muffled shouts made their way through the window and all four watched as Hermione’s curls shook wildly. Pansy was the first to attempt conversation again. 

“I’m glad you all found time to come. It really means a lot to-” The door slammed open and a furious Granger strode in, placing the large white folder on the sofa besides Ginny and flipping through it as she pushed hair back from her face. Draco wiggled his fingers in a wave towards the group as he leaned against the wall behind her. 

“Hi, Pansy. Weaselette.” Pansy grinned wide at him and shifted her eyes towards Hermione obviously. He shook his head quickly at her and then faked a deep frown as Ginny flipped him off. 

“Hi, Draco.” Astoria waved at him. 

“Ah the lovely Greengrass sisters.” Hermione clicked her fingers at him and pointed towards a staff only corridor, finding her page in the folder and handing it to Pansy. Draco hadn’t moved and she pointed once again as he leant to look at the folder.

“Malfoy! Corridor. Now.” 

The other four witches bent their heads down towards the folder, suddenly becoming extremely interested with wedding dresses as Draco stomped like a petulant child to the other side of the establishment. 

~

“I told you -very specifically- not to come. I even sent you how many?” Draco stopped kicking the floor to glare at her, standing at the other end of the corridor with hands on her hips. 

“Three.” 

“Three! Three owls reminding you, in no uncertain terms, not to appear. And then what did you do?” Hermione hissed at him, stepping forwards. 

“I don’t really think that’s your call, Granger. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s not your wedding.” Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets, whispering back and taking his own step forwards. 

“I am well aware whose wedding it is.” Hermione stuck her head around the corner to wave at the women, all attempting to eavesdrop unnoticed. Even the lone shop assistant had paused in pouring Ginny a drink to turn an ear to the two in the corridor. 

“Oh really?” Hermione turned back at his sneering tone.

“I could think of at least one blonde Slytherin who would not be in attendance.” She looked at him pointedly. 

“Awww should I break the news to Daphne.” 

“Don’t you- don’t even talk to Daphne. Don’t!” She actually pointed at him then, sticking a finger towards his chest as he grinned maliciously. 

“As lovely as your company is Granger, I’m not loving this lecture.” Draco stepped back towards the end of the corridor to return to the group before Hermione blocked his path. 

“No. The dress fitting is for the bride’s close friends and family to help her in picking what we both know Pansy considers the most important dress of her life.” 

“Great, I’m the closest friend she has.” Hermione scoffed as Draco squinted his eyes at her. “And in terms of fashion advice I’m not sure you-”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” She was practically shouting now, as much as she could whilst keeping her voice to a harsh whisper. 

“-are the best choice. Miss A-line skirts and knitted cardigans.” Draco sneered a little as he whispered, looking her up and down.

“Oh and you are?” Draco nodded quickly as Hermione looked him up and down. “I know for a fact that you own a fur hat. I mean, you’re wearing a suit to a dress fitting. You don’t even have a 9 to 5 job! Why are you wearing a fucking suit?!”

“I do things during the day that you don’t know about.” 

“I’m sorry, other than enslaving house elves-”

“I let all of the little bastards go and you for one should be well aware of that.”

“-and harassing ex-fiancees-”

“I wouldn’t call it harassment. If anyone’s harassing anyone it’s you!”

“-I have no idea what you do with your  _ copious  _ amounts of free time.”

“Also, in terms of relationships, I think it’s a little hypocritical that any woman I’ve even looked at isn’t allowed within thirty feet of the wedding-”

“Jesus Christ! Why are you making this about you?!”

“-yet you expect me to believe that you and Potter spent three months camping and remained perfectly chaste the entire time.” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Unlike you, we’re both familiar with the concept of self control. And I think calling it camping-”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.”

“-is more than a little unfair. So unless you and I have shagged and conveniently forgotten all about it-”

“Trust me you wouldn’t forget. I’d rock your fucking world, Granger.” 

“-then your argument is ridiculous.” 

They stared at each other, suddenly aware how close they were standing, red in the face and breathing heavily. 

“Go out there, make your apologies and tell them you got an urgent owl that needs attending to.” Hermione pointed to the end of the corridor but kept her eyes on his. 

For a moment he opened his mouth to argue again but instead studied her face, grunted in a surprisingly Ron like manner and stormed past her. Hermione could hear the witches quickly trying to make normal conversation as he came around the corner and made a generic Malfoy apology about owls and mothers and escaped peacocks. She let out a shaky breath and then followed him, just catching him closing the door behind himself. 

Once Hermione had excused herself to tame her hair and splash her face with water, Pansy and the other bridesmaids had given up pretending to be disinterested and were sitting on the edge of their seats. 

“You Slytherins are fucking annoying you know that, right?” Hermione glared at Pansy, half serious as the bride raised a single eyebrow at her. Ginny seemed suddenly incapable of keeping a smirk off her lips, Astoria similarly as Daphne seemed almost forlorn. The attention was drawn away from her as all four women sighed at the same time just as the shop assistant turned the corner with their dresses in her arms. 

The dresses eventually chosen were a shade of lavender, all from the same silk but to be styled slightly differently for each bridesmaid. Pansy’s dress was as modest as she was, an intricate dress, with magically moving lace and a cloak that when dropped from her shoulders extended to a long train behind her. By the time they were each at least half a bottle deep into the champagne and watching as Ginny explained in depth the exact spells to protect the dresses up to and during the day, Daphne was sitting beside Hermione and grinning as Astoria cracked jokes about pig latin cleaning charms. 

They thanked the shop assistant one last time as they stumbled out of the shop, giggling to each other. They stood in awkward silence once again before Ginny burst into giggles and they all followed. They finally dispersed with Hermione promising to send out invites to a bachelorette party as they went. She made it home, swiftly sending an owl before slipping off her shoes and standing on the tips of her toes to reach the bottle of booze she’d hidden on top of the fridge. She was barely a glass into it, smacking her lips together and peering at the ripped bottle label in attempts to work out what exactly she was drinking, when her doorbell rang and a voice called out. 

“Hermione?” She pulled the door open, looking up at the looming blonde as he grinned down at her. “What are you doing?” She attempted to casually lean against the door frame but misjudged it and he grabbed her before she fell backwards. “It’s barely 8 at night. How are you drunk?” He let out a chuckle as he pulled off the sweater he’d clearly thrown on top of his pyjamas in a rush to respond to her less than clear- vague enough to sound like an emergency- letter.

“I’m not drunk, Cormac. I’m tipsy.” She stumbled into the living room and he trailed behind her, grabbing her by the hips as she almost tripped over the arm of the sofa. Her mind went back to just weeks ago when he held her over the sofa in this exact spot, grabbing at her hair as she whimpered. She pressed her back against his chest and leant her head up to look at him, his eyebrows furrowed a little as she swayed. 

“You need to go to bed.” Cormac steered her towards the sofa by her hips and stepped back as she rested her head against the pillows. “I’ll get you a glass of water.” 

“I don’t want a glass of water.” She pouted slightly, mildly aware of her out of character brattiness. Cormac seemed to find it almost endearing as he reappeared in the kitchen doorway and grinned at her. He placed the water in her hands and crouched on the floor beside her. She looked between him and the glass of water for a second before he rolled his eyes, gripped her by the chin and lifted the glass to her lips with his other hand. Hermione gulped down water, taking the glass from his hold with a slight glare. 

“I’m not going to fuck you when you’re this drunk, Hermione. So just get that idea out of your head right now, alright?” He was fixing her with a stern look, one she wasn’t used to from him and she squinted at him. She leant past him to place her glass of water on the table behind him, well aware she was pressing herself against him before pulling back. 

“ _ Please _ .” She ran a single hand through the hair at the front of his head and he choked out something between a groan and a chuckle. She bent closer to him, gripping his hair tighter and winding her fingers in it as she held her lips a breath away from his. “ _ Cormac _ .” He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in and out deeply before opening one eye, then the other and pecking a quick kiss to her lips. She pouted once again as he started standing up before pulling her up with him and lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist automatically and her arms around his neck as his fingers dug into her thighs. She pressed kisses along his jaw and he shook his head, chuckling once again. 

“You’re such a minx.” She bit at his neck playfully as he walked them through her bedroom doorway. He stopped at the bed and dropped her onto it rather roughly and she bounced a little before stretching herself out. He wasn’t even watching her somewhat lazy attempts at seduction, instead rifling through her drawers to pull out pyjamas. She gave up, throwing her head back against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling. He unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs in practiced movements that had her reaching for him. He dodged her wandering fingers as he finished sliding her into pyjamas and pulled the duvet over her. He stood awkwardly in the bedroom doorway for a moment as she rolled herself over and pressed her face into a pillow. 

~

The next morning Hermione, less hungover than she thought she’d be, stumbled into her living room to find Cormac sprawled out across the sofa. She sat across the living room from him and absentmindedly read an article on Blaise Zabini’s new recreational potions business, noting to bring it up with Malfoy next time they fought- perhaps a quip about his ex-classmates achievement in comparison to his own, as Cormac snored softly. His snores eventually disappeared and she looked up from an article about how Katie Bell was breaking the glass ceiling of Quidditch with a metaphoric beater’s bat and bludger. Cormac rubbed sleep from his eyes and sat up as she folded the paper and rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hand. His eyes glinted with something mischievous almost the moment he was fully conscious. 

“C’mere.” 

Cormac was smirking at her, crooking a finger in a way he knew would frustrate her. Hermione huffed. 

“How about  _ you _ come over  _ here _ .” Cormac rolled his eyes at her and then wandered over to the armchair she was sitting in, resting his hands on the armrests either side of her and capturing her lips roughly. She arched up against him, pulling at his hair as he bit her lip. 

“What were you reading about?” He murmured against her lips as he lifted her out of the seat, wrapping her legs around his waist before sitting in the chair himself. She pulled away from him as he pulled her top over her head. 

“Glass ceiling.” She said as she stood between his legs to pull down her pyjama bottoms and knickers. Cormac pulled his own sweatpants down his thighs, before tugging her back towards him. 

“Like a conservatory?” He asked as she straddled him once again. Hermione laughed a little although his face remained passively serious, she stopped chuckling when he held her hips over his cock and then slid her down quickly.

She laughed again to herself later, finishing the article wrapped only in a knitted blanket as Cormac handed her a freshly brewed coffee. Before he settled into his spot on the sofa, she was mildly concerned that he had an assigned spot on her sofa, the doorbell rang and he sighed as she looked at him pointedly. He pulled his sweatpants over his trunks with one hand, tripping a little as he stumbled to the hallway as the doorbell rang again. Hermione refocused on the article, not focusing on the conversation in her doorway until Cormac shouted to her. 

“Hermione!” She rolled her eyes as she dropped the paper and looked towards the hallway. “It’s your boyfriend!” She rewrapped the blanket around herself and made her way to the hallway. Cormac turned to look at her, leaning in her doorway looking too pleased with himself, with Draco Malfoy standing behind him, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets as his eyes flicked from shirtless McLaggen to blanket-clad Granger. She tightened her hold on the blanket. 

“Hi.” She swallowed heavily, suddenly worried about the state of her curls and well aware that she was blushing a ridiculous shade of red. Draco avoided her eyes as he nodded in response. Cormac continued grinning, seemingly the only one comfortable in the situation. 

“Sorry-” Draco finally found his words, eye twitching a little as he squinted at a spot on her ceiling. “I-” He looked at her for a second before looking at Cormac who was chuckling a little and chewing on a nail absentmindedly. “I wanted to apologise- for yesterday. You were right.” 

“Oh.” Hermione almost stepped further into the hallway but Draco took his own precautionary step back in response, eyes widening as his eyes fixed to her face finally. “That’s alright.” 

“I wanted to- I was going to see if you wanted to get a coffee, catch me up on the bridesmaid’s dresses.” Nervous Draco wasn’t something she was used to, his cheeks were a pleasant pink and he licked his lips absentmindedly. “But clearly you’ve already got…” He coughed into his fist lightly,” _ -coffee. _ ” Cormac was still holding his own mug of coffee, sipping it before raising it to Malfoy in a cordial gesture. He turned to Hermione again, eyes focusing on the wild mess of curls spreading out from her bright red face. “We can catch up during the week, just owl me.” 

Hermione nodded stiffly. 

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your morning.” Draco seemed oddly sincere, pushing his fists back into his jeans pockets, nodding at Hermione, then Cormac, then looking back at Hermione as she attempted to wave as she still gripped the blanket. Cormac waved as well as Draco retreated and then slammed the door behind him. 

Hermione waited until Cormac had placed his hot coffee on the kitchen table before sticking her tongue down his throat until he took her from behind against her kitchen surface, hand clapped over her mouth as images of pink cheeks and muggle jeans came to mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Wedding ideas? Let me know x


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one feels a little short, not to worry though there's another chapter already on its way!

“Burnt Orange.” Even as Hermione said it she could sense his disapproval. 

“Absolutely not.” Draco flipped through another rack a few feet away from her. “Dusty Blue.” 

“Dusty?” She scrunched up her nose and he chuckled. 

“Just step away from the oranges, it’s the complete wrong end of the spectrum.” A shop assistant across the room made eye contact with Hermione and they shared a knowing look for a second. 

“I don’t know about that.” Hermione held up an almost beige cloth napkin. “What about Burlywood?” 

“Look me in the eye and say ‘Burlywood’ with a straight face.” He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. 

“I feel like you’re making a bigger deal about the names than you need to.” 

“You’re the one judging dusty over there, check your bias.” She huffed and he turned away to hide his smirk. She moved to a rack closer to his and he turned to her immediately. 

“I know you don’t want to hear it but I think we should revisit-” She was already shaking her head. 

“Nope.” 

He persisted, lowering his voice and leaning in closer to avoid the Muggle customers hearing. 

“It doesn’t have to be  _ Slytherin _ green, but you have to admit it would go well with the lavender dresses.” 

“Perhaps, but we’re not wearing the napkins down the aisle.” 

“Fine.” A few moments of silence. She smirked to herself. 

“Cyan.” 

“No.” Her smile dropped. He kept looking through the rack in front of him. 

“You didn’t even look.” 

“I know what the colour Cyan looks like, Granger.” He looked up at her face and then down at the cloth in her hands. “And I can only assume you’re joking.” She rolled her eyes before putting it back. 

“Do we even really  _ need _ napkins?” She walked round to stand at the same rack as him and bumped him with her shoulder. He held up a simple mint cloth to the light and inspected it for a moment. 

“Surely I don’t have to remind you of the groom's eating habits?” Hermione rolled her eyes as he replaced the cloth in its assigned spot. “We could revisit White?” 

“God no. I can’t sit there whilst you try to explain the difference between shades of cream again, Malfoy. I’m not a masochist.” His eyebrows lifted for a fraction of a second before he pressed his lips together into a firm line and tilted his head. She squinted at him and opened her mouth to defend herself when the shop assistant came to Draco’s rescue. 

“Can I help you guys with anything?” They both turned at once and Hermione noticed for a second just how close they were standing.

“No tha-”

“Actually, I was wondering,” Malfoy sent Hermione a look and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have anything in Celadon?” She mouthed ‘ _ celadon?’  _ at him but he smirked and returned his attention to the shop assistant. 

“Uhhhh, let me check the book.” She waved them over to the desk and started flipping through a catalogue. 

“You just made that up. Didn’t you?” Hermione said out of the corner of her mouth but Draco shook his head and leaned in closer. 

“Sometimes I actually know what I’m talking about.” His eyes flashed with mischief as he turned back to the shop assistant who was noting down the number. 

“Is that sometimes just during napkin purchases?” She said teasingly and he rolled his eyes, following the shop assistant back to the racks, “Or does your colour expertise range across-” 

“Oh, I’m a colour theory genius, Granger. You didn’t know?” He winked and reached the shop assistant who was holding out a light  _ green  _ napkin. He took it from her, thanked her and inspected the material with incredible detail. 

“Malfoy.” He hummed and Hermione put her hands on her hips. “It’s green.” The corners of his mouth fought a smile and he nodded at her seriously. 

“I think you can put away your House prejudice for one day, can’t you?” She held her shoulders back and thought for a moment. 

“Alright.” A grin crossed his face before he could stop it. “But you owe me.” He waved at the shop assistant as they made their way over to the checkout. 

“You can pick the first cake we test.” He said, leaning on the side as Hermione pulled the wedding details from her bag and copied them into the form. 

“We’ll get those delivered to your address as soon as we can.” The shop assistant said, folding the napkin into a square and placing it in a bag. “Take this with you and if you change your mind you can call anytime and have it swapped.” Draco nodded and took the bag, hanging it off his finger loosely. “I hope your event is beautiful.” Draco flashed the shop assistant a grin before pulling a lock of Hermione’s hair from where it was caught in her shirt collar, she slapped his hand away and he held both up in surrender as she signed at the bottom. 

“It’s a wedding actually.” Draco said. He’d found a new hobby in making friends with everyone he met in retail over the past few weeks and Hermione had found it quickly moved from endearing to mildly annoying. 

“Oh! That’s brilliant. We do quite a few weddings.” Hermione straightened up and handed the form to the shop assistant and shot him a look that he ignored. “The two of you are very cute together.” Hermione had turned pink the first time this mistake had been made, now she didn’t bother to fight it. Despite this, Draco smiled like a cat who got the cream and leaned in closer. 

“I bet you have to say that to all the couples.” He whispered conspiratorially and, after a moment's thought, winked. Hermione forced a smile to the shop assistant as she took the receipt. 

“Thanks for your help.” Hermione said as she grabbed Draco by the sleeve. He waved at the assistant over his shoulder as she dragged him out. “One day, you’ll make it through a shop without flirting with the employees.” 

“I’m not  _ flirting _ .” He pulled open the small bag for her to drop the receipt inside as they both walked to the nearby apparition point. “If anything it’s a compliment to you.” She raised an eyebrow and then furrowed them both as she turned and squinted at him. He grinned. “They always seem to think you’ve managed to pull this.” He gestured to himself smugly and Hermione rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve seen me, Granger, but I’m quite-” 

“Yes, thank you, Malfoy. I think I get your point.” Hermione looked up and down the street before turning into the alley. She held up her arm for him and he huffed. 

“You’re a brilliantly talented witch my dear but your apparition is truly shocking.” She sighed and still held out her arm resolutely. 

“It’s either this or the muggle public bus.” He scrunched up his nose in disgust and then gripped her forearm as she turned on the spot. He opened his mouth to speak again almost immediately after they appeared a few buildings down from the bakery. Hermione interrupted. 

“I think Cormac is going to meet us after we’ve picked out the cake options.” 

“Oh are you two…” Draco looked for the right word, instead he just trailed off and gestured vaguely. 

“Yes, Malfoy, we’re...” Hermione copied his hand gesture with a laugh. 

“I was going to say ‘trapped in a pyramid scheme together’ so-” She stopped laughing. 

“Oh fuck off.” He snorted, quite out of character, and fought down a grin before pushing open the door to the shop. 

“I’m really glad that you’d come to me for  _ economic _ advice though.” She rolled her eyes at his teasing. 

“Oh yes, I really value your colour theory knowledge.” They made it to the counter and Draco tapped his fingers against the wood as he raised an eyebrow at her. 

“One day soon Granger, you’re going to find yourself in a sticky situation and wish you hadn’t pushed away the one art expert in your life.” The baker appeared from out the back and waved for them to wait a moment whilst she helped another customer. Hermione nodded to her and then turned to Draco, sucking on her teeth in mock-regret. 

“I hate to say it but you're too late. Cormac’s also a massive colour nerd.” Draco’s mouth fell open with surprise as he played along. 

“He’s a chroma-whiz too?!” Hermione fought down her grin to grimace and nod almost sincerely. “We’ll have to make a club.” They chuckled a little for a moment until Hermione looked at him seriously.

“Do you like him?” She cocked her head and Draco avoided eye contact for a second before shrugging. 

“I don’t really know him if I’m honest.” Hermione frowned for a moment. 

“That’s not exactly-” 

“Afternoon, Weasley-Parkinson booking please.” Draco smiled at the baker behind Hermione and she spun on the spot to face her. 

~

Only six relatively small pieces of cake later, Hermione stretched in her chair before patting her stomach and letting out a deep breath. Draco chuckled beside her, still chewing on a piece of red velvet. He leaned forward, spiked another piece on his fork and held it up for her. She looked at him apprehensively and he rolled his eyes. 

“Just trust me, Granger.” She leaned forwards and took a small bite whilst he watched her with an expression she wasn’t familiar with on his face. She pulled back, chewing slowly. 

“Oh my god.” She muttered, covering her mouth with her hand as she swallowed. He grinned at her and nodded, clearly pleased with himself. 

“Good right?” She nodded along sincerely, picking up her own fork this time and dragging his plate closer to herself. He flicked her hand and pulled the plate back. She almost pouted but caught herself and watched him eat the last piece before licking his fork perfectly clean. 

She shook her head quickly, pressing a hand to her hot cheeks and then started pulling things from her bag, stacking various books on the table. When she finally found her notebook, Draco was already flicking through Pansy’s scrapbook with a grin on his face. 

His jaw dropped open and he stopped flicking through to hold up the scrapbook, open to a page covered in pictures. The page held a range of moving photographs of famous wizards doing various activities, Cedric Diggory throwing his fists into the air in triumph claimed the entire bottom left corner. Hermione reached to grab the scrapbook back but he held it out of her reach and continued to inspect it. Then he scrunched his nose up in disgust and handed it back. 

“Did I really look like that?” Hermione laughed when she found his photo tucked between Victor Krum and Gilderoy Lockhart. She tapped the photograph with her finger and nodded with a grimace. 

“I think you look adorable.” He stopped pouting at the floor and looked at her with bright eyes. Her eyes flicked from him to his younger self before she spoke again with a smirk on her face. “I mean, you were a complete prat and a bit too blood purist for my tastes but-”

“Adorable?” He scooted his chair closer and rested his chin on his fist before raising an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes and he pointed to his younger self again. “This is from before you broke my nose.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at it closer and then back at him. “See?” He tapped a small bump she’d never noticed before at the bridge of his nose. She reached out a hand to touch it herself but her hand froze halfway when she met his eyes. She pulled back and tucked her hair behind her ears with a weak chuckle. He forced out his own chuckle before coughing into his fist and sliding his chair back a little. 

“So-” Hermione pulled a pencil out of her bag after replacing the scrapbook in its spot and opened her notebook to a blank page. “Red Velvet?” Draco nodded silently as he stacked their plates and cutlery in the middle of the table and resolutely avoided her gaze. She wrote down the name and then looked back up at him. “We still need to pick the decorations, flowers etc. We know Ron wants at least,” she flipped to the right page to check, “three tiers.” 

Draco seemed to perk up at the mention of decorations and Hermione fought down a smile at his excitement. He turned around to look at the display beside them and his voice faded out of her focus as she bit her lip, taking a moment to appreciate the neck muscles now displayed. He pointed at one cake, gesturing wildly and her eyes wandered away from his neck and down to the shirt stretched along his shoulders. He turned back to her with an innocent grin and she blushed suddenly, sat up in her seat and nodded. 

“-besides the point as we can easily adjust charms ourselves.” He finished and then held out his hand. After a moment of awkward silence as she stared transfixed at his fingers, she handed him the notebook and pencil. He turned to a new page, smoothing out the paper and scrunching up his face in concentration as he, to her surprise, started sketching out the outline of a three tiered cake. She leaned in to get a better look but he squinted at her and blocked her view with his arm. They sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, Draco continuing his scribbles as Hermione tuned in and out of the conversations of other customers. She snorted as one unfortunate couple acted as mediators between two sets of agitated and huffy parents. 

“Do  _ you _ like him?” Hermione turned back to Draco who looked up from his drawing to watch her with apprehension. He licked his lips absentmindedly. “McLaggen, I mean.” She dragged her eyes away from his mouth and found herself nodding. That seemed to be enough of an answer and Draco returned to his sketch with no other comment. She opened her mouth then closed it again, not entirely sure what she’d say. 

Suddenly he sat up in his seat and pushed the notebook towards her. It was a simple drawing showing a three layered cake with a simple trail of flowers, labelled ‘Pansies?’, across one side. There were notes in places, as well as shading, with other ideas, some crossed out and others underlined. Hermione stopped her jaw from dropping in shock and instead hummed in agreement. 

“It looks- perfect. Brilliant.” She ripped the page out carefully and placed it on the table between them before waving to the waitress. 

“This is where you apologise profusely for underestimating my artistic talent, Granger.” She shot him a warning glance and he chuckled at her just as the waitress approached. 

As the waitress collected up the plates, Draco caught her glancing at his drawing and once again took the opportunity to make a new friend. He talked animatedly as he explained the icing colours and Hermione laughed into her hand as the waitress tried to take it in stride. 

“And you’ll do all three tiers the same flavour?” The waitress handed back the sketch, before asking. Draco seemed taken aback and looked at Hermione with shock. 

“You can do them differently?” He whispered loudly and Hermione shrugged. The waitress took over. 

“Lots of events do it, for gluten free or vegan options.” She leaned in closer. “Although, between you and me, most of the time it’s for appeasing to significant others. You’d be surprised how many people cry over cake of all things.” Hermione laughed and nodded, well aware given her eavesdropping, but Draco seemed almost scandalised for a second. “You two seem a lot more… in tune than other couples.” He laughed out loud at that, somehow managing to choke on nothing until Hermione slapped him on the back. 

“You didn’t see us trying to pick out napkins.” Hermione finally said and the waitress chuckled. 

“Whenever you're ready we can take your order at the front.” Draco thanked her and waved as she retreated to the kitchens. Then he turned to Hermione with a smug look and reclined in his chair. 

“What?” She said, he just stayed silent and raised an eyebrow. “ _ What? _ ” 

“You don’t correct them anymore.” He stretched his arms behind him and Hermione’s eyes flicked across his torso before landing on his face and squinting. She knew immediately what he was referring to. 

“Well, apparently it’s a  _ compliment _ .” She hoped she sounded teasing and not like she took anything he said seriously. His smile faltered for a moment and then he slid the sketch towards her. 

“Do your thing Granger.” She rolled her eyes but stood up and picked up the drawing, pulling her bag onto her shoulder as she made her way to the counter. She tapped her fingers against the top for a second when hands grabbed at her hips and she jumped. 

“Sorry.” Cormac chuckled into her ear and she laughed with relief, turning in his arms. “I’m surprised you didn’t hex me.” She pretended her hand hadn’t jumped to the pocket in her jeans where her wand was and smiled up at him. 

“It’s a Muggle establishment, Cormac.” He tilted his head at her and scrunched up his nose in disbelief. “I could just swing a punch instead.” His eyes widened almost comically and she shook her head. “Speaking of-” She nodded at Draco over Cormac’s shoulder. 

“Speaking of?” He let go of her to turn and finally spotted the Slytherin who waved at them both with an awkward half-grimace. 

“You can go wait with him, I won’t be too long.” She thought for a moment he’d protest but he just pressed a kiss to her cheek and sauntered over. The waitress finally reappeared and looked oddly between the table made up exclusively of blond pureblood wizards and Hermione before clearly deciding it was none of her business. They were quick in getting the details written down, the waitress had a pretty good idea already and seemed much less interested now. 

“So the last changes can be made up to ten working days in advance to your event, just call. Thank you for your order.” The waitress sent her a dazzling smile and Hermione responded in turn. 

“Thanks for your help.” As she turned back she was confused to see both Malfoy and McLaggen conversing in an almost friendly manner. 

“I mean it’s an important job. About 70% of the reason I go to weddings.” Cormac said and Draco’s eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly for a second before he responded. 

“I mean, it is pretty much essential.” He responded, a smidge of pride making its way into his tone. 

“I’m surprised the groom didn’t want any part in the cake testing though.” Cormac said with a strange tentativeness, as if he was testing the waters, and Hermione looked between them both confused as she approached. “Seems to be his thing.” Draco snorted before replying. 

“I thought the exact same thing.” The realisation that maybe this was how men talked shit about each other, at least how upper class men who were barely acquaintances gossiped about shared frenemies. She tapped Cormac on the shoulder and as he turned to grin up at her, Draco suddenly started moving. He’d pulled his coat off the back of his chair and onto himself by the time Cormac had stood and they both towered over her. 

“Well, um-” Hermione looked between the two and felt an odd feeling in her chest. “I’ll see you next week, Malfoy.” Before she could stop herself she was wrapping arms around his shoulders and squeezing slightly. She was grateful she couldn’t see his face, where it was trapped on her shoulder, as she felt him stiffen before hesitantly patting her on the back. She stepped away and plastered on a grin, as if friendly hugs were something they regularly partook in, and Malfoy followed suit. Cormac slung his arm over her shoulders and reached out to shake Malfoy’s hand as Hermione frowned at the floor, more confused by her own behaviour than anything else. 

“See you around, Malfoy.” Cormac almost seemed to steer her out of the shop, pressing an uncharacteristically sweet kiss into her hair as they made it out onto the street. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Xx


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit happens folks, prepare yourselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a long chapter, so I've moved some of it until next time.

Draco Malfoy didn’t smoke. In fact, for many years, he made a point of _not_ smoking. It was a muggle habit. It was unhealthy, it was dirty, and he was 100% convinced that he’d never be able to pull it off as well as Pansy did. Looking around at his three dinner companions he imagined just how nice it would be to have that excuse to escape this restaurant, if only for a few moments. The last hour or so would’ve been easier with intermediate breaks.

Opposite him, Daphne Greengrass was practically glowing, laughing lightly and, at the perfect times, brushing her feet against his under the table. On _her_ right, Cormac McLaggen was roaring with laughter every other minute no matter how inane someone’s comment had been, and was currently enraptured in his own story, some inter-Ministry quidditch match that he’d won. The real struggle of the evening was keeping his eyes to their side of the table, focusing on Daphne’s little smiles and laughs and tucks of her hair behind her ear as well as McLaggen’s _interesting_ and _thrilling_ stories, instead of the witch to his left. 

He’d gotten one good look at her since they’d sat down and hadn’t been disappointed. Hermione Granger was wearing green. In her defence, she seemed rather surprised that they’d all ended up squeezed into the corner of the restaurant together. Perhaps McLaggen had forgotten to mention the double part of the date. But it was a nice idea; that she’d be wearing Slytherin green as a nod to him. He knew her well enough by now to know that she’d probably just grabbed whichever dress she could find; whichever was hanging closest in her cupboard and was currently offending her the least.

“Malfoy, do you want a smoke?” He was ripped from his thoughts by the very witch currently occupying them and stopped staring at the spot below Daphne’s earlobe. He turned to Hermione who held up a pack of cigarettes she definitely couldn’t have been carrying on her person, not with the close fitting of her-

She started standing from her seat without him and he scrambled to stand, following her just as Cormac called “You better not run off with my girl, Malfoy!” with a good natured laugh. Draco scowled but didn’t turn back, instead following the cloud of brunette curls out the fire exit. 

“My date likes you more than me.” No ‘hello Malfoy’. No, ‘want a cig?’. No explanation for her sudden new smoking habit that he surely would’ve noticed at some point in the past. 

“I was going to say the same thing.” The corner of her lips quirked for a second and then she moved away from him to lean against the wall, the cold bricks pressing marks onto her bare back. “Although I wish I could say the feeling was mutual.” Draco stepped closer, leaning one shoulder on the wall about foot away from her and crossing his arms across his chest. 

“You don’t actually smoke do you?” He asked with a familiar smirk and she turned her head to raise an eyebrow at him. 

“No, and I know how you hate the stuff.” She turned back to glare at a street light across from them. He studied her face for a moment, her attempt to seem peacefully calm ruined by the slight purse of her lips. He took a fortifying breath and then signed his own death sentence. 

“You dragged me out here to shout. Didn’t you?” Her face screwed up in frustration for a second and she turned to him.   
  


“Daphne. Greengrass.” Her voice was dangerously steady.

“Ah.” Her voice raised suddenly but he was already wincing in advance. 

“Really, Malfoy?!” 

“In my defence-” She stepped away from the wall and started walking but he didn’t move, just watching her strides. He spoke louder to compensate for the distance. “I was betrothed to Astoria, not Daphne. We’ve always been friends.” She was storming back but he held his ground. On her return she leaned against the wall, much closer to him now. 

“Why are you so upset?” 

“I’m not.” She paused as if making a decision between the two words, then spun on her heel and walked the length of the wall and back again. He watched her in silence before chuckling as she tripped a little on her way back. “See, the thing is-” 

“Oh?” Her nose scrunched up at his interruption but she kept talking as she leaned against the wall again. 

“I just thought you’d already apologised for messing with the bridesmaids-” 

“For fuck’s sake, Granger. She asked _me_ out.” She turned to him, genuinely confused. 

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He raised an eyebrow and she turned back to stare across the street. He was sure her cheeks were turning pink, even under the orange street light. 

“I’m not.” He huffed out a chuckle and she turned to him again with wide eyes. “I’m sure you get- you’re very-” 

“You’re still fucking McLaggen?” He phrased it as a question, although the answer seemed obvious. It’d barely been a month since she’d admitted, with wide eyes and sitting much too close to him, that she liked the bugger. She swallowed heavily before replying. 

“Not at all.” She looked away from him again. “We’re dating now.” He couldn’t help the chuckle bubbling in his chest and pressed his face against the wall to laugh uproariously for a second. 

“What.” Hermione deadpanned, studying him suspiciously. 

“Nothing.” He said around another laugh and she sighed. 

“Malfoy.” 

“Fine.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned internally at the trouble he was about to cause. “Have you heard the phrase about paying the dragon when they’re already heating your house for free?” She looked confused for a second before her mouth dropped open. 

“Why buy the _cow_ when you can get the _milk_ for free?” His eyebrows furrowed. 

“It means the same thing, right? About bedding witches?”

“That phrase is incredibly sexist, Malfoy.” He grimaced and nodded but seemed unapologetic. “And also he asked _me_ out, so-”

“Hmm.”

“I was perfectly happy getting the- milk, fire, whatever for free.”

“Oh.” He tilted his head up and squinted at the night sky for a moment. She chuckled softly. 

“Don't sound so surprised.” At her mocking tone he looked back down at her and raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not. I just think you could do better.” She smiled at him for half a second and then stuck her nose in the air with a ‘humph’.

“Well, I don’t think you can do better. Daphne’s lovely.” Her voice was perfectly snooty, Daphne herself would be proud and he scoffed in response before shaking his head.

“You’re right.” He waited for her self-satisfied grin or ‘What was that again, Malfoy?’ but she simply blinked at him expectantly. “About her, _and_ the bridesmaids thing _and_ being betrothed to her sister.”

“I know.” She turned to stare at her street light again, looking too smug for a second. 

“Well, as long as you agree this was a bad idea.” He spoke slowly, dipping his toe in the water. 

“I do.” She watched him warily.

“I’ll probably just go home then.” She practically growled as she turned to him and grabbed him by the wrist as he made to step away from the wall.

“Ditching a bridesmaid on a date is still a crime in my book.” She let go of his wrist quickly once he leaned against the wall again. He looked down at her with an almost sweet smile. 

“Oh Granger, what would I do without your skewed moral code?” She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. 

“Who’s to say? You’d probably be being handed between all the Greengrass female relatives as we speak.” 

He let out a mock groan and she shivered slightly beside him. “Don't tease me, Granger.” They both fought down grins and then watched a bird fly from one telephone pole to another. Hermione broke the peaceful quiet of the bustling restaurant and nearby traffic. 

“I’m not done shouting at you yet.” 

“Maybe later, Granger.” He patted her hand weakly, like she was an old woman he was helping across the street, and then spoke on in his infamous patronising tone. “Lets just,” He took a deep breath, “enjoy the night for a moment.” She lasted all of three seconds; he counted.

“Mal-”

“In silence.” 

Another three seconds before she was shifting to look up at him again. 

“God, you’re a fidget.” He murmured.

“I thought we were appreciating the night in silence.” She whispered out the corner of her mouth, looking back at their street light. 

“We are.” He whispered back and fought a smirk.

He kept his eyes fixed on the light as he counted another three seconds before looking down just as she looked up. He watched her pupils expand in the orange light and started counting again. 

One. Two. 

She lifted herself higher on her heels, he grabbed her hand to balance her and then she was pressing her lips against his and he stopped counting. She seemed less bothered with actively kissing and more interested in balancing via his lips, slotting them between her own and holding him there for a fraction too long for it to seem like a complete accident. Then her hand was out of his and she was taking her walk alongside the wall again. 

But it was fine. It was closed lipped and brief and the kind of thing he was sure the french did upon greeting old friends. It wasn’t even worth mentioning. They could easily go home, guilt free and never think of it again. If Hermione hadn’t immediately stormed back and tried it again. This time her mouth was still firmly closed, but her intentions were perfectly clear and as she went to pull back again his face followed hers and he brought an arm around to pull her back in. 

The pressure of her mouth on his eased and almost inadvertently his tongue flicked out against her bottom lip. She pulled back quickly and both his arms snapped back to his sides. She stumbled back another step as she looked up at him with mild horror. Normally, he would’ve laughed at that expression.

“That’s- not-” She mumbled and her own tongue traced her bottom lip. He grimaced slightly.

“No?” She shook her head in response.

“Definitely not.” They blinked at each other for a second. Then he hummed softly, spun on his heel and walked seven paces before stopping to glare up at the sky. He heard her cough awkwardly, then muttered some kind of curse to his ancestors and turned back. She watched with trepidation, as he strode back towards her, but held her shoulders back in a brief show of Gryffindor bravery. 

He counted eight paces back, watching his footsteps until the points of his shoes were inches away from her own, open toe and rather daring choice of footwear. Her toe nails were painted to match her dress. His eyes snapped up to meet hers and he didn’t give her a second to breathe out her quick gasp before his hands were cupping her cheeks and his open mouth was pressed against hers. 

Her tongue joined his just as her hands reached his shoulders and she pulled him down and closer to her. His own tongue had started out demanding but as her chest arced into his, he softened before pulling back a little and pressing a firm, partly closed kiss against her panting mouth. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip and the gasp née moan he let out shocked her into stepping back once again. They blinked at each other and he started counting down. 

One. Two. 

“I’m sorry.” Her eyebrows furrowed and she seemed more surprised by her apology than he did. “Sorry, I've been drinking…” She trailed off and then seemed to remember herself. “Wine.” 

“Yeah, I could-” He stopped himself, licked his lips and thought for a second before speaking again. “Cabernet Sauvignon?” She looked at him almost furiously all of a sudden and then glared at the ground.

“Oh, for the love of-” She seemed to mutter at her own feet before shaking her head, looking up at him again and pressing her lips together like she was preparing herself for some kind of reckoning. Then her lips were on his again and his back hit the wall. 

Her fury, although perhaps confusing, wasn’t exactly unwelcome as her tongue overpowered his and her fingers tugged at his hair. His own hands tangled in her curls and he tilted her head to the side for better access as he seemed to transfer a moan from the back of his throat to hers. Before he was aware of what he was doing one hand had escaped the cloud of curls and trailed down to pull her hips closer. Never to be outdone, she responded by hiking her leg around his hip and pushing them even closer together. His other hand started the trail down and her fingers had just dug into his shoulders as a loud whistle interrupted them and they went flying apart. 

A group of teen muggles, possibly five or six, on bikes were gawking from the other side of the street. The biggest stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled again before they all seemed to decide that the fun was over and cycled back down the street. Hermione was still watching with red cheeks and shuddering breaths as they turned the corner at the end. Then she looked back at him and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Draco took his own deep breath before speaking.

“Your lipstick is-” 

“I bloody know what my lipstick looks like, Malfoy, have you seen yourself?” He shook his head slightly, still stuck in a world where her pink tinged chest heaved above her low-cut dress because of his actions. She made her small ‘humph’ noise again and then strode passed him to the door, pulling it open. He grabbed her wrist just as she stepped inside and she just blinked at him for a second, shook her head almost imperceptibly and then walked off towards the bathroom with purpose. 

~

The casual piano music playing in the bathroom may have started soothing but had quickly grown annoying as Hermione wiped away all traces of smeared red wax from around her nose and chin. She’d left her wand on the table after that stupid summoning spell and spent a second thinking about whether she’d dropped or simply given up the magical existence of the pack of cigarettes. She figured either way it probably didn’t matter now and let out a sigh of relief as the makeup began to clear. 

She barely acknowledged the door as it slammed open and a blonde woman stumbled into a cubicle behind her. She’d just wiped the last of the incriminating lipstick off herself and was inspecting her teeth in the mirror when the cubicle opened and Daphne joined her at the sink. They looked at each other in the mirror for a moment and Hermione held her breath, unsure if Daphne would notice the stained pink paper towel in her fist and the now obvious lack of lipstick. It didn’t seem to be a problem as Daphne smiled easily at her through the mirror and then stumbled a little on her feet as she washed her hands. 

“The wine is amazing tonight so I’m a little-” Daphne turned to her mid-sentence and lost her grip on the sink she’d be using for balance. Hermione grimaced at herself in the mirror as she held the Slytherin by the elbow to keep her upright. Daphne cursed at her own feet before looking up at Hermione for a fraction of a second. Then the other girl leaned in and Hermione stepped back far enough to avoid her lips but also close enough to keep her steady. Daphne grimaced and then stood herself up straight. 

“Sorry.” Daphne seemed to murmur at no one in particular before straightening and leaving the bathroom suddenly. Hermione blinked at herself in the mirror for the count of three before letting out a mix of a chuckle and a groan, stomping her foot and following the other girl out. When she reached their table, Malfoy was signing the bill as Daphne whispered something in his ear which made his eyebrows furrow. Cormac had Hermione’s coat ready and helped her into it before sliding her wand into her pocket. 

“Daphne’s not feeling great so we’re skipping dessert.” He said as he pulled his own coat on and grinned at her with bright eyes. A pit started in her stomach and she tore her eyes from where Daphne’s fingers were gripping Draco’s to smile back at Cormac. “I’ve got ice cream at my place.” Right. Third date. His place. The whole reason she’d agreed to come on possibly the worst date ever. She nodded.

Her quietness remained unnoticed as she kept just the right amount of humming along and laughing as Cormac regaled her with stories she’d laughed at before on the way home. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when they reached his front door and Hermione bit her lip in anticipation. She continued to berate herself internally as she used the toothbrush he’d bought specifically for her, before placing it back on it’s spot beside his. 

“I didn't realise you smoked.” Cormac was leaning in the doorway of the bathroom and for a second the reflection of him all tall and blond, leaning so casually made her heart beat a strange pattern. 

“Hmm?” She cleared her throat and then turned to him. “Oh, more socially than religiously. Draco’s a much more dedicated smoker.” She smirked internally, Cormac practically cranked the ministry gossip wheel by hand. That little titbit would be making the rounds for the next week. He nodded and frowned for a second before starting to pull open the buttons on his shirt. “We got caught discussing wedding planning. For tomorrow. Sorry.” He shook his head and flashed her one of those grins but it didn’t feel as reassuring to her as usual. 

“His girl’s great. Daphne, right?” Hermione nodded as she started on the buttons of her own dress. “She’s a quidditch fan.”

“Well, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing that I missed your thrilling quidditch conversation.” Hermione said with a smirk as she pulled her arms from the dress and started wiggling it down her hips. He laughed and threw his shirt into the bath before pulling his vest off. 

“But I have your full attention now?” He cocked an eyebrow and placed his hands on the sink either side of her. Her hand clasped his cheek and then slid down to his belt. 

“Absolutely.” He pecked a quick kiss to her lips and then cleared his throat. 

“Turn around.” She spun in his arms and caught his eyes again in the mirror. He watched as she breathed in and out slowly and then pressed a kiss under her ear. “Missed this.” Another kiss where her neck met her shoulder and she shivered. 

“It was your idea.” She smirked around the words and he looked at her under hooded eyelids before humming against her skin. 

“It was meant to be romantic.” His hands left the sink and she heard the clink of his belt even as she rolled her eyes. 

“Well. It was just frustrating.” He ignored her and just grumbled something under his breath that made her chuckle softly by tone alone. 

“Bend over further.” Her eyes flicked to him in the mirror again and she watched him step out of his trousers and underwear with more confidence than she’d ever possessed. She’d thought it before but was reminded once again that Gryffindor bravery came in plenty of forms. “Hermione.” She huffed out a small laugh and then moved to rest her elbows on the surface either side of the sink. “New bra?” 

“You’re really annoying sometimes. You know that right?” He snorted out a laugh but seemed unbothered as his fingers found the lace of her underwear and he pushed them down her legs. 

“Mhmm, you’re being very convincing.” His voice was dry. It became obvious to both of them that she was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, I should have the next one up soon. Xx


End file.
